


Some By Virtue Fall

by and_so_the_shadows_fall_apart



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Star Trek Verse, alternate universe- star trek setting, i like crossovers okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4308885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/and_so_the_shadows_fall_apart/pseuds/and_so_the_shadows_fall_apart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically the second act of Les Miserables set in the Star Trek 'Verse. Enjorlas and the Les Amis de l'ABC on a monarchist planet, and are attempting a revolution. Valjean is a starship captain who happens to get caught up in their movement, and faces a dilemma when Cosette falls in love with one of the revolutionaries. It's clear they won't be able to hold out against the King's forces, but the Prime Directive keeps him and his crew from interfering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A post went around on Tumblr asking users to "imagine their icon as the protagonist of the last show (they) watched". I had an Enjolras avatar and had been binge-watching Star Trek: The Next Generation, and thus a terrible beauty was born.

_Captain’s Log - Stardate 23750.17_  
 _The Ferengi attack on our vessel has left us limping through space on only one functioning engine. Regrettably, we were forced to destroy the enemy ship before it destroyed us. We have no shields. The warp core is badly damaged; though stabilised, there’s no way we’d ever be able to make it into even warp one. We’re on impulse power, and it doesn’t look like that will be changing anytime soon. It seems we will have to land on the nearest planet in order to allow engineering to reverse the damage done. I can only hope our intrusion will go unprotested._  
~~~  
“Captain!” Acia looked back from where she leaned over the small, freestanding command console. “We need to put down as soon as possible. We’ve barely got impulse power. If those Ferengi sent out a distress call and any of their friends picked it up, we’re as good as dead.”  
Valjean couldn’t keep from smiling just a bit. “Optimistic as always, Commander.” He stood up straighter and clasped his hands behind his back, watching the planet ahead of them grow slowly larger on the viewscreen. It looked similar to Earth, save the fact that the land had a more red tone, and the clouds above were a gentle lilac color.  
“Commander Surik, what is this place?”  
“This is the planet Caeli IV, a human settlement in the Reid System. Class M. Continually settled for the last five hundred years. Starfleet used to deal often with the inhabitants of Caeli, but in the past century they seem to have become increasingly reluctant in their dealing with the Federation.”  
“Do you believe we will be welcomed?”  
The Vulcan glanced back over his shoulder for a moment. “I do not have enough information to draw a conclusion.”  
“If I might interject, Captain, we really don’t have much of a choice. We need to land, and the next nearest planet is nearly four hours away at impulse power.” Acia straightened her back, her blue eyes as sharp and alert as ever, but there was a slight tremble in her voice.  
She’s young, to be an officer. No doubt this is hard on her.  
Valjean tapped his comm badge. “Engineering.”  
There was a moment of static before a reply came through. “Bridge, this is engineering. I hope you’re about to say that we’re going to try and land this thing.”  
“Commander, how far can we go on impulse power?”  
“I’d give us maybe two hours, and that’s being generous. You planning a trip?”  
Valjean glanced at Acia, whose face was carefully inexpressive. “I suppose you’re right. We don’t have a choice. Bridge, out.” He tapped his badge again and walked over to his chair. The captain sat down and rubbed his forehead with his hand.  
“Shall I try hailing them, Captain?”  
Valjean nodded decisively. “Proceed, please.”  
Surik punched in a few codes on his control panel. “Ready, captain.”  
“Caeli IV station, this is the Federation starship U.S.S. Liberty. We are in need of a place to land for repairs. We were ambushed by a hostile vessel and have sustained major damage to several critical systems. Requesting permission to land.”  
There was silence on the other end of the hailing frequency, but eventually, a voice came through.  
“Starship Victory, this is Caeli station in Sandros.” The voice broke off into static and muffled whispering. “We have received your hail… you may land at… ah… well, I’ll send coordinates to your ship… but just follow the route I give, okay? Don’t… get off track.”  
Valjean raised an eyebrow. “Requesting visual communication.”  
“Um…”  
More rustling, and then a new voice.  
“The button’s over there, Marius.”  
“Where?”  
“Right there.”  
After a few moments, an image appeared on the viewscreen, somewhat blurry but still recognizable.  
A young man with tousled brown hair and a dark jacket looked nervously at his own camera, clearing his throat and tugging at his white shirt. Behind him, there was a grey wall with equipment mounted all over it. The long, deep shadows made it difficult to discern exactly what was in the room. Everything seemed to be coated in a layer of grime.  
“Uh… hi.”  
“Hello. You seem a bit young to be a communications officer.”  
The boy, Marius, blushed deeply. “Well… I’m smart?”  
“Might I ask what’s going on?”  
A sigh was heard. “Just move, Marius. Let me handle it.”  
Marius got up and moved off to the side, obviously still listening to the conversation.  
Another young man sat down. He had half-lidded eyes, and black hair that tumbled out from beneath his dirty hat in loose, black curls. He smiled lackadaisically.  
“How can I help you, Captain?”  
Valjean bristled. “I am somewhat familiar with the customs of your planet, and I have a strong feeling that none of this is regulation. Do you mind telling me what is happening here? Who are you?”  
The young man leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. “I’m R. Not my given name, of course, but as Shakespeare would say, ‘What’s in a name?’ I find R tells all you need to know about me. Unless, of course, you desire to know more, which I will gladly tell you. R comes from my prénom, Grantaire. I find it a rare name, which lessens confusion as to who I might be. I cannot say I am proud to carry the name Grantaire, for every Grantaire I have ever heard of was either a slaver, a mercenary, or a priest, which are quite possibly the three careers I detest the most. No, I choose R, one simple letter to sum up my simple existence. Not even a grand letter, simply an R. A consonant among consonants, perhaps the lowliest letter in our alphabet, save perhaps Q, who must have a U in order to make himself at all useful. But I digress. I take it you were inquiring about the state of the world?¨  
Acia stared at the captain, incredulity written on her face. Some of the ensigns on the bridge were hiding smiles, but Valjean was in no mood for the youth’s antics.  
“Yes, I was.”  
“Well, the world as of late has been a terrible quagmire of deception, danger, and high taxes. It’s been raining far too much, and when there are this many storms early in the year, it always serves as a bad omen. It was in such a year that I was born, which is curse enough upon this world. I shudder to think what might occur this year. Perhaps the universe shall end. It is of little concern to me.”  
Acia stepped forward. “Captain, may I…?”  
Valjean nodded.  
“Are you an authorized communications officer?”  
Grantaire sat up straighter. “What would ever lead you to think such a thing? Of course I am unauthorized. Why do you ask this?”  
“We desire to speak with someone who hold authority to communicate for this planet.”  
“Who gives such authority?”  
“The government, usually.”  
The young man scoffed.  
Acia bristled at his reaction. “Sir, are you intoxicated?”  
Grantaire laughed. “Sadly, no. I wish I were. Then I would not be so unbelievably dull. Truly, I am a much better person when inebriated. I say and do noble things, though I do not remember them. The tales do reach me, however.” He paused. “Oh, mademoiselle, allow me to apologize. I seem to have neglected something rather important. In my ignorance, I forgot to inform you of the terrible tragedy that has just recently occurred here. You see, a brazen, bold-faced group of young rebels have seized part of our largest, most beautiful city. The insurgents have somehow managed to intercept all communications. They are truly fools, and brave ones.”  
“And you’re one of these insurgents?”  
Grantaire stood up and bowed low, removing his hat with a flourish. “Nathan Grantaire, insurgent, rebel, and wanted criminal. Traitor to the Throne, the Scepter, and All the People of Caeli IV.”  
The sound of a door opening came from Grantaire’s side of the camera.  
“R, what are you doing?”  
He sat back down and turned his face toward the ceiling. “We’ve been hailed by a Federation vessel, and we’ve been having a most interesting conversation. Isn’t that right, Lieutenant?”  
“I’m a Commander,” she retorted, her composure failing for a moment.  
He waved his hand in the air. “Same difference, beautiful.”  
“R,” the voice sighed dejectedly.  
Grantaire yelled as someone shoved his chair to the side, sending him crashing into something.  
Another young man came into view. He wore glasses, one of the lenses cracked ever so slightly. His skin was an olive color, and his hair dark brown.  
“Are you a Federation captain?” His eyes were gentle and thoughtful.  
Valjean stepped forward again.  
Finally, one with sense.  
“Yes. We are the Starship U.S.S. Liberty, and our vessel is badly damaged. We need a place to land, so our engineering team might repair it.”  
The man nodded. “We have a place, but our instructions must be followed exactly. If you stray out of the zone we control, you risk immediate arrest.”  
“I take it your planet is not what it once was?”  
He shook his head. “Sadly, you are right. We can explain the situation once you arrive, if you wish to hear it. I can assure you we mean no harm to you, your ship, or your crew.”  
Valjean admired the young man immediately. Something about his composure and the way he chose his words spoke of great intelligence and sharp intellect. “I’d very much like to hear the story.”  
He pushed his glasses up his nose and began tapping away at the keyboard in front of him. “Sending instructions now.”  
“Thank you, …?”  
“Combeferre.”  
Valjean nodded. “Good to meet you.”  
“And you. Please, follow the instructions exactly.”  
“Understood.”  
~~~  
Bringing the ship into the planet’s atmosphere was a fairly simple matter. They were careful to follow the path Combeferre had sent them. Valjean couldn’t help but to be excited by the prospect of not knowing what he might find on the planet below. That curiosity was one of his biggest reasons for joining Starfleet, and it was as strong as ever.  
Soon, they were preparing to land.  
“Ensign Wynn, is everything alright?”  
The young man looked up, hesitation written on his face. “It’s just… I’m used to docking starships, or landing shuttles. Not landing entire ships.”  
“This was taught in the Academy, was it not?”  
“Yes sir.”  
Valjean put a hand on the ensign’s shoulder. “You will do fine. Trust what you know.”  
“Aye sir.”  
The captain turned to Acia, who stood at the ready, as always. “Would you like to command this landing?”  
“If you ask it of me.”  
“I do.”  
She nodded and stepped forward, her eyes clear and voice sharp as she gave commands. Her long, blonde hair was pulled back from her face into a tight ponytail. She was a fine officer, and Valjean could think of no one better to have as his second-in-command.  
The turbolift door opened, and he turned sharply.  
“Papa, is everything alright?”  
Valjean couldn’t keep from smiling as his daughter stepped onto the bridge. Her pale skin had a blue tint from the bridge lights. Her light brown hair hung loose down her back. As always, pride swelled in his heart as he took note of her blue uniform.  
“We’re just coming in for a landing, Cosette. Is everyone in sickbay alright?”  
She nodded, but her light pink lips were drawn into a tight, worried line. “We’re on emergency power, so it’s difficult, but we’re managing. Several crew members sustained injuries from the Ferengi attack, but all are in stable condition. Tandra gave us a bit of a scare, but we think she’ll be fine.”  
“I’ll come by sickbay sometime and see them.”  
Cosette came closer, and Valjean placed his arm around her shoulders.  
In Starfleet, it was often said that a captain could love nothing more than his ship. Valjean disagreed. Cosette was his life, his whole heart. The years she had been away at the Academy had been some of the hardest years of his life, but to see her standing on the bridge of his ship — their ship — made it all worth it. His daughter was beautiful, gentle, kind, smart, and so much more. She was more than he could have ever hoped for. Finding her alone, seeing her small face and big, brown eyes staring at her from around that corner: that day had changed his life. The promise he made to her mother was the word he aimed to keep, above all else.  
I will take care of her.  
And he had, to the best of his ability.  
“We’re going to be stopping here for a while, to repair and restock. It seems that circumstances on this planet are… interesting.”  
She raised an eyebrow, a habit she had picked up from him. “What do you mean?”  
“I’ll explain it later.”  
A few moments later, the ship landed with a slight jolt. Cosette clung to her father to keep from falling.  
Acia turned to him. “We were a bit fast on the descent, I apologize.”  
“Nonsense, Commander. You have done well.”  
A ghost of a smile played on her lips, though she tried not to hide it with a stern glance at the viewscreen.  
Valjean looked around. “I take it transporters are down?”  
“Yes sir,” Surik replied.  
“Alright. Surik, Cosette, Vance, and Cole. I want the four of you to come with me. Acia, you have the bridge.”  
“Yes sir.” Acia sat down in the captain’s chair.  
Vance and Cole got up from their stations and stood, somewhat anxiously. Valjean was careful to stay relaxed, knowing that they would take their cues from him.  
“Open the hatch, please.”  
They heard the sound of metal sliding against metal, and the loud ‘click’ that meant the hatch was in place.  
Valjean led the way and was the first down the ladder. The thick, heaviness of the air took him by surprise as he stepped down onto hard, cracked, red ground. He moved out of the way as Cosette descended.  
The captain looked around and saw a group of young men approaching. They all carried weapons, some in their hands, some strapped to their backs. He recognized Combeferre and the nervous boy he had first spoken to, but R was nowhere to be seen.  
One of them walked ahead of the others, his bearing marking him as the leader. He wore a short, crimson cape over his left shoulder, and had golden hair that reached nearly to his shoulders. His expression was like marble, but his eyes were very much alive. His clothes were dirty, but he managed to retain an air of transcendence and command. He inclined his head slightly at the strangers.  
“Welcome to Caeli IV, Captain Valjean. I am Enjolras.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Captain’s Log - Supplemental_  
 _We’ve landed on Caeli IV, an unassuming planet under some truly remarkable circumstances. We were received by a group of young rebels, most of them looking barely over twenty years of age. They permitted us to land and we were greeted by their leader, a youth who goes by the name of Enjolras. He invited us to discuss the planet’s situation, to which I agreed. He seems a good-hearted fellow, but there is a definite danger about him. I suppose time shall reveal what his true intentions are._  
~~~  
“Please, be seated.” The young leader motion to mismatched assortment of wooden chairs and tables scattered about the room. It looked to be an old cafe. Despite the open windows, the air smelled stale, as if it had been closed up for quite some time.  
Enjolras’ own men (and women, Valjean noticed) were already taking their seats. They eyed the strangers with a good deal of curiosity, but he could not detect any anger or hostility in their glances.  
Valjean sat down next to Cosette, facing the front of the room. The place was not dirty, but clutter had piled up all over the place. There were stacks of papers and fabric piled high on the tables in the back, and many weapons lining the walls. There were crates of what Valjean guessed to be ammunition that some of the rebels used as makeshift chairs. The walls themselves were painted in warm, earthy tones, and the glass panels that still remained in the windows were clean. The floor was a dark sort of wood, and lights hung from the ceiling.  
“Welcome to the Musain, friends,” one of youths offered with a grin and a sweeping bow. His eyes sparkled with life, and he had a head full of tousled brown hair.  
Enjolras stood at the front of the room, his back toward a wall covered in maps and handwritten notes. “I apologize for any inconvenience or fear we may have caused you,” the leader began, again inclining his head toward the crew of the starship. “We are in an extremely difficult position at the moment, given the state of our world.”  
“Your friend Grantaire — R — explained some of what has been going on,” Valjean offered.  
Enjolras nodded. “Then, doubtless, you know that we are rebels. We are not alone; there are six other groups with a similar aim. We call ourselves the Les Amis de L’ABC, or the Society of Friends. You are currently in the part of the city we have managed to bring under our control.”  
“It is a fortunate thing you did,” another rebel put in. His voice resounded in the ears of all present, matching his deeply tanned skin and thick black beard. “Had you landed elsewhere, they would have arrested you on the spot.”  
“Bahorel is right.”  
“Might I ask why you felt the need to cause such an uprising?” Surik asked, his hands folded on top of the table, his face expressionless. However, Valjean knew him well enough to see that he was interested in the situation.  
Enjolras stood a bit straighter. “Conditions on this planet are unacceptable. The monarchy has deteriorated to the point where it no longer cares for its people at all. the King and his advisors sit idly by while those he was charged to protect waste away from hunger and disease. What law enforcement we have is for hire. They will only protect those who can pay them to do so. Debtors are taken as slaves. The people cannot afford medicine, shelter, or any form of education. Many cannot even afford food. These are the time in which we live, Captain, and all of us here can no longer sit idly by and watch as these things continue to happen. This is why we have risen. We believe in freedom for the oppressed, the equality of all, and the brotherhood among all of us. We refuse to allow the poor to be trampled upon by the rich. We refuse to accept the apathy with which all these things are viewed. We desire reform, we desire change, and no change will come without a revolution.”  
The young man’s passion hung about the room, almost a tangible air. He never raised his voice, but his words were felt just as strongly as if he had shouted them. He stood tall, still burning with electricity and energy. In him resided both the fire of youth and the wisdom of one much beyond his years.  
Valjean found his heart swayed by the character of the young leader and the picture he had painted with his glowing words. “It seems you have made progress, have you not?”  
“Yes, monsieur. As I have said, we are not alone. We have taken nearly a quarter of the city for our own possession, and are into our second week of holding it. We aim to move forward soon.”  
“Why the delay?”  
Enjolras hesitated, his aura nearly faltering. “We cannot take the city on our own. The King’s force is amassing for an attack. We cannot withstand them, unless the people rise alongside us. They have been trampled for many years; they are afraid to fight. However, they have been stirring as of late. When the time comes, they will be ready. The people will rise. Freedom will come to this city, and it will spread across the planet. There will be equality and brotherhood at last, and for all. We will raise a new and shining Republic from the ashes of the old monarchy that has for so long loomed over us like a shadow, an omen of doom. The sun will rise at last, on a land that has been too many years in the darkness.”  
A few of his friends cheered audibly. Valjean glanced over at Cosette, whose dark eyes were sparkling with promise and possibility. The young leader’s spell had fallen over his command and security officers, as well. They looked to be in another place.  
Surik’s voice rose over all the others. “What makes you so sure the people will rise?”  
The room fell silent, but Enjolras simply smiled. There was something dangerous about that smile, something pure and bright, but equally terrible.  
“I have faith, friend. Is more required?”  
“I choose to put my belief in logic.”  
“Logic is for numbers. I do respect it, and it truly does have its place, but I find it lacking when it comes to dealing with people. They do seem to defy it.”  
Surik fell silent, his eyebrows knit in contemplation.  
“It seems as if your cause is a noble one,” Valjean spoke up.  
“It is, indeed,” Enjolras replied.  
“We will do our best to keep out of your way. All we need is space to repair the damage done to our ship.”  
“Of course, monsieur. If there is any other way we might aid you, please, let us know.”  
Valjean nodded and stood up.  
With a crash, the door to the Musain was flung open, banging into the wall. Grantaire stood, his eyes wide and his breaths coming in pants. “Attack on the Rue de la Serre barricade. They need reinforcements.”  
The group stood nearly in unison, chairs scraping across the wood floor as they all headed for the door.  
Enjolras turned to the captain. “You still seem to have questions about what exactly is happening here? Come with us.”  
“We can come, but we cannot fight with you.”  
The leader nodded tersely. “Understood.” He took the weapon he was carrying off his back, pulling the strap over his head. The gun resembled an old Earth automatic rifle. “Let’s go, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this one was so short; hopefully the next will be longer!
> 
> Please leave a commet & kudos if you enjoyed it! I also have another Les Mis AU idea that I might just write if any of you are interested in it (or if I don't stop thinking about it soon). Have a great day/night, and check back soon for the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I aim to get more parts out soon, and I'm not sure how long it's going to be. Please leave a comment & kudos; I'm notorious for getting low on motivation for fanfics and never finishing, so if you like it and want it to continue, let me know!


End file.
